


Wolf Form

by Light7



Category: Legacy of Kain
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Fledglings, Fluff, wolf form
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:21:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24929863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Light7/pseuds/Light7
Summary: Kain lets off some steam in his wolf form.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Wolf Form

Tonight, Kain was a wolf.

The wolf's form was his favourite of all the alternate forms he could utilise.

It was not as useful as his mist form, which allowed him entry to almost anywhere and let him avoid most injury-related mishaps. But mist form was slow, cumbersome, and being insubstantial made it difficult to concentrate, to remain focused. The experience was exhausting.

Wolf form was also not as fast as his bat form, which allowed him to traverse great distances at speed. Though Kain felt that bat form was one of those things where it was better than the reality. Everyone loved flight, but when doing so meant dividing your consciousness into several dozen tiny bodies, all with their own minds and visual input, it soon lost its appeal. The experience was nauseating.

The wolf was fun; it was an indulgence.

It was large, strong and sharply focused. The only downside to this shape was the low-key rage which festered within it. But that was only a downside if you concerned yourself with consequences, which tonight Kain did not.

Tonight, Kain gloried in the rage that was not quite his own, it was a welcome distraction. For tonight Kain was a wolf who was fighting to ignore why he had become a wolf. He ran across fields, through wheat and barley, and into the villages. Tearing through those in his way, ignoring those who remained out of sight. He wasn’t hunting; he was running.  
Luxuriating in the freedom that the wolfs strength and endurance gave him. He leapt small rivers, bolted up and over hills, and every so often let out a sound of frustration. 

It was only when he felt the ache in his legs and the ebb of his magic that he slowed his pace and circled back the way he had come. It would likely not do well to retrace his steps entirely, but he had to go back.

He had fledglings waiting for him.

It had been six months since he had raised his brood, they would be crucial for his ambition, essential to his goals, he needed them. But he was having to constantly remind and convince himself of this. They were young, infantile really, simple-minded and utterly dependant. He had recalled none of Vorador’s brood being such, but then Vorador had not raised centuries old corpses to be his fledglings, so perhaps comparing them was unfair. But the deep-seated concern that they would remain this way made being ‘fair’ difficult.  
That constant underlying fear, layered with the everyday frustration of managing six infantile fledglings, was testing his patience and Kain was not a patient creature to begin with. So, he had fled from them tonight, determined to let off some steam in a way that wouldn’t result in one of his brood dying permanently.

But now he had to go back, the sun would sink soon and yet another night of fledgling management would begin. Kain let out a snarl as he forced himself to pick up the pace again. Running no longer felt freeing now that he was running back. This would not be forever, like all things it would end. Either his brood would grow or if they remained young-minded he would kill them.

For a moment he mourned Vorador’s absence. He would have been useful to have around someone to foist the fledglings onto. Vorador had always enjoyed fledglings a lot. Kain snorted, perhaps leaving them with Vorador would not have been such a great idea, the old hedonist would have probably ended up sleeping with them.

Kain snarled a curse when the sun dipped below the horizon. The brats would wake and he was still a distance away. Only now reaching the edge of the forest where he had left them. Moving through the trees at speed was difficult, the constant dodging weave slowing his pace. Again, he cursed his own foolishness. He should have turned back sooner. The damned fledglings required almost constant monitoring, as they seemed to have an innate skill for self-destruction.

He was panting heavily by the time he reached a clearing close to the cave where he had abandoned his brood. The clearing was unremarkable, save for the fact that his eldest was exploring it. Kain halted, panic making his already burning chest tight, if one was up then the others…

“Oh,” Raziel said, when the oversized wolf barrelled into the clearing, skidding to a stop, claws tearing great rends in the leaf-litter. “Hello there.” Kain frowned, wondering if his eldest had recognised him. The fledgling wasn’t afraid in the slightest, an expression of curiosity on his features. He must have recognised him, surely coming face to face with a beast such as he would have caused fear otherwise. No one was dumb enough to not be afraid of giant wolves. Kain growled an acknowledgment and padded towards Raziel, who grinned.

“Come here, then.” The little twit patted his legs, as if coxing a dog over. The gesture was enough to stop Kain in his tracks. His head tilted quizzically. Raziel stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Then reached out and buried his fingers in the ruff of fur on Kain’s neck and shoulders, fingers tensing and relaxing, almost like a cat’s kneading.

Raziel was a tactile creature, his habit of constant touching was one Kain had grown somewhat used to over the last few months. So out of habit he allowed the invasion of his space and the overly familiar touch. The expression on his child’s face was still one of curiosity, but a very calm curiosity. So much so that Kain was sure Raziel knew it was him.

“I don’t suppose you’ve seen our sire in your woods, wolf?”

Oh.

That was a no then.

Raziel had not recognised him. Kain let out a huff of disappointment, rolled his eyes and made a mental note to teach his children that eyes are only one of five senses and they should use all of them.

He was about to change into himself and yell at his eldest, but at that moment, the hand buried in his ruff moved up to one of his ears and rubbed over it. The gentle touch sent a warm sensation out across his head and neck. A soft whine escaped him, though he snapped his jaws closed the moment it did. That felt nice. As ridiculous as it was, it had been so long since anyone had reached out to him in a way that hadn’t been to murder or manipulate him he had almost forgotten that touch could feel pleasant. Raziel laughed quietly and reached his other hand over to rub Kain’s other ear, gently pinching between thumb and forefinger and rubbing in small circles.

“Nice, huh?”

Kain leaned into the soft pet, and for the first time since he had raised his children, he appreciated Raziel’s apparent tactile nature.

He allowed himself only a moment, but that moment was a long one and was only broken when a shout from the direction of the cave startled him and reminded him he had five other children who were probably dead or dying by now. He pulled back. His eldest made a sound of disappointment.

“Where are you going?” he said as the wolf walked towards the cave. Kain huffed again and with a minor effort of concentration shifted his shape back to his own.

“To see to your brothers,” he said to a wide-eyed Raziel. “Come, before they decide swimming is a new and exciting hobby.”

**Author's Note:**

> Authoress Note: I’m sorry, I just had the mental image of wolf Kain getting his ears petted and Raziel is doubtless the only person who would be brave/stupid enough to try that and probably the only person Kain would tolerate doing it. So …yeah, thus this silly fic was born.
> 
> Thank you for reading, please review, I’d love to hear what you think of the chapter.
> 
> For information on published works and upcoming projects, release dates, as well as weekly blogs, check out [my website](https://katiemarie21.wordpress.com)


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